Somebody commented
I have written many poems,
you have not published a book,
he said in a mocking manner,
they may not be good answers,
just the same I will tell them here,
my poems are downy duck feathers
that I stuff my big pillow with,
pillow that takes me to dreamland,
that wakes me up with sunshiny smile,
they are my thermal blanket
that give me comfort in cold weather,
they are the colorful Spanish fan
that drives away the heat of the sun,
they are the Japanese umbrella
that shades me from sultry heat,
they are my Arabian flying carpet
aboard which I see a whole new world,
they are the wide-spreading canopy
that covers me when nights are gloomy,
they are, to me, true happiness
articulated in wonderful words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem